The Wife of the Polish Patriot. [APRIL, 



sical strength enabled them to fling aside all obstacles to their own pas- 

 sage. \yith the resolution of one who held life forfeited, Aimee resolved 

 to remain in her present awful situation, rather than venture amid that 

 despairing throng. She laid the boy down to avoid the balls, which 

 fell thicker and thicker among the dispersing crowd, and threw herself 

 almost upon the child. At this moment, the same voice that had before 

 made Aimee's heart leap within her bosom, again reached her ear : 

 " Stand, Lancers, stand ! Let not yon wolf-dogs drive your horses over 

 these miserable fugitives." Aimee looked up. Another fierce sweep of 

 the tempest dispersed, as if in haughty scorn, the dense volumes of 

 smoke which hung, like a black cloud, on the charging columns. God 

 of mercy! Aimee beheld either the phantom or the living form of her 

 husband ! He was endeavouring to rally a regiment of his compatriots ; 

 and called on them, in the voice of military eloquence and high courage, 

 to stand by their colours. His helm was up his face warm with exer- 

 tion ; his eye shone keen, bright, and stern, as if no gentler thoughts 

 than those of war had ever animated that bosom. The flush of military 

 spirit and physical exertion had banished, for the moment, the traces of 

 wounds, fatigue, and privation. That eye alone was changed, and its 

 stern, warrior glance almost inspired with fear the gentle and enduring 

 being who now strove to make her voice heard through the din of the 

 fight, and the wild uproar of the elements. " O Ladoinski my love 

 my husband ! turn turn ! It is I it is Aimee it is your wife who 

 calls on you !" She called in vain. Roman turned not gazed not. 

 The spirit of the soldier seemed alone awake in the Pole. He looked, 

 at that moment, as if no, tender feeling no thought of Aimee, occupied 

 his bosom. For one instant, it almost seemed to the wife as if her hus- 

 band would not hear. He rallied his broken forces, and called out gal- 

 lantly, " Lancers ! forward. For God and Poland ! Remember her 

 who now lies with a Cossack's pike in her breast beneath the snow- 

 wreaths !" and he disappeared in the re- thickening smoke. 



Day now waned ; and the troops of Victor, after having nearly accom- 

 plished their unparalleled task of protecting the famous retreat across 

 the Beresina, at length began to give ground. Aimee saw that she must 

 now, at all hazards, attempt the perilous passage, or remain behind a 

 prey to the lawless Russian victor. With trembling and uncertain step, 

 she endeavoured to gain the largest bridge ; but the banks of the river 

 were here so crowded that she drew back in consternation ; and, again 

 throwing the child on the ground, watched beside it, rather with the 

 instinct of maternal tenderness, than with any fixed hope of ultimately 

 preserving its life. Suddenly, the largest bridge was seen to give a 

 fearful swerve then a portentous bend towards the waters. A noise of 

 rending, which made the ground tremble, succeeded ; and Aimee 

 beheld the fatal bridge, and all its living, shrieking burden, descend 

 with crashing violence into the icy waters of the Beresina, while a stifled 

 cry of wailing arose from those living descendants to a watery tomb 

 so wild, despairing, and fearful, that, for a moment, Aimee deemed the 

 hour of man's final retribution at hand. 



Night closed on the slayer and the slain on the victor and the van- 

 quished ; but the thunder of the Russian artillery ceased not its dismal 

 roll ; while the noise of the French troops, still pouring in restless files 

 over the remaining bridge, shewed Aimee that the desperate passage 

 was still continued. She began to fear that her senses were fast yielding 



